


Distant Lover, One Day I'll Hold You Like the Sun Holds the Moon

by Sleepyfaceandsnark



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bartender Bucky, ER Doctor, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Letters, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Letters, M/M, Mystery, Pen Pals, Romance, Slow Burn, WIP, Work In Progress, doctor steve, if i have the patience, in progress, lonely idiots who fall in love, stevebucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:47:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29324940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepyfaceandsnark/pseuds/Sleepyfaceandsnark
Summary: When Steve leaves a letter for the new resident at the lake house he stayed at during the summer he doesn't expect to get a letter back, or such puzzling exchange that'll make him ask is this fate? Or is this just an expertly crafted practical joke?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Updates will be every Tuesday :)**
> 
> ~Loosely based on the movie The Lake House~
> 
> Enjoy!

****

**January 4th 2012**

* * *

_Dear New Resident,_

_I hope you enjoy this quaint house as much as I did. May it feel you with many times of peace. Please if you receive any mail addressed to me to forward it to my current address listed at the bottom of this letter. The paw prints on the dock and the box in the attic were here when I got here. Not sure who the box belongs to._

_Enjoy your stay,_

_Steve R_

Steve leaves the letter in the mailbox and takes his last bag of luggage. He didn't so much lie in the letter it really was a nice, quaint place and it was very peaceful but regardless of those facts he couldn't wait to leave the lake house behind him. It wasn't the lake house's fault he had a bad break up and had to go back to shifts at the emergency room after his private practice lost their funding and he certainly didn't believe it was cursed so it was okay to omit his personal drama from the note. He takes one last look at the house, placed in the middle of a lake 5 miles wide with large windows being the only source of outside exterior walls. It gives the illusion just anyone could look in but there was no one around to do so, and even then by some technological advances of some kind Steve couldn't bother to remember, the glass reflects in a way that disables anyone from seeing in. The walkway from land to house is around 10 yards and narrow, leaving enough room for one person and maybe a dog Steve thinks as he rolls his eyes looking at the pawprints again. He finally jumps in his car and pulls away from the house with promise he'll be back to check on it soon.

**February 3rd**

* * *

Bucky Barnes drives his truck down the gravel road towards the secluded lake house he decided, on a whim, to rent. A stupid decision possibly, especially for a bartender, but a great place for him to get peace to write. He checks the mailbox and sees a letter written by the previous inhabitant. He slings his only bag back over his shoulder and slides his fingers though the flap of the envelope to open it as he walks up the walkway. He unfolds it as he puts the keys he was given in the lock, flicks the lights on by the door, and drops his bag down. He walks to the couch and starts reading.

Quaint? Definitely. He got that memo when he checked out the place. He glances quickly at the bottom to see the address he's supposed to forward the mail to and goes back up to reading.

Paw prints on the dock? Not sure he remembers seeing those unless he wasn't paying attention when he was shown the place, or even just now. He'll check in the morning.

Box? That could be interesting. Soon as he's settled and orders some food he'll find his way up to the attic.

He puts the letter down. Okay so no notion of anything be haunted. That's good. Except maybe the mysterious box.

His food comes and he puts on the tv, setting it up when he was waiting for the delivery. Of course setting up the tv took longer than the thought so he didn't have time to look in the attic for the mysterious box. He finishes his dinner, discarding the remnants in the trash. He sits back down to finish the episode of whatever mindless tv program he settled on to rid himself of scrolling through all of the channels. He already forgot the name of it but it was a rerun of some show about people jumping through impossible obstacles. Bucky sits back and wonder if he could do that, maybe even win there prize...if there even was a prize. Note to self look up how to apply to American obstacle course show or something...

He turns it off after the episode ends resisting the urge to let it go to the next one and decides now is a good time as any to look up at the attic.

He pulls the covering down, revealing a small latter, and climbs up. He peaks his head through the hole and notices how empty the room is. He climbs through regardless and walks around the room seeing a few pieces of furniture, some with sheets covering it some covered in dust. That's odd. Almost as if no one has been up here in years. He looks around some more but doesn't see anything resembling a box. Maybe the letter was old and not only did the other inhabitants paint over the paw prints but also got rid of the box (and never dusted). Shame he was curious.

He checks the letter again and there was no date besides the day and month. Maybe it was January 4th of another year?

Bucky sighs and goes back to the television, scrolling through again until he falls on some movie that was halfway done. He falls asleep on the couch. Next day he looks around the house, in daylight this time, and sees what could possibly be fixed. He doesn't notice much in the house besides some rusty hinges which wont be a huge project so he goes outside to look. He walks on the walkway still not seeing the paw prints that were supposedly there however he does notice the paint chipping, pieces of it coming of in his hand as he slides it down. Looks like he'll need a trip to the nearest hardware store for some paint. It'll probably be easiest to just match the black that's already on it as much as he'd like to try his hand at a bold color change.

Luckily the hardware store was nearby so about a half an hour later he has the paint, brushes, a roller (in case that's easier), and a tray to dump the paint in.

About an hour in, and not even halfway done, he hears something near the bushes on the other side of the road of the house. He hears something jump out of it and the light scratching of nails on the pavement. He's about to turn around and face whatever beast decided to intrude on his peaceful Lake House when he hears a playful bark. The best, or otherwise known as a Golden Retriever, gallops towards him tongue flopping in the wind. Bucky manages to dodge out of the dog's way but unfortunately the paint pan didn't make it. The dog's feet run through it, knocking the paint can over as well in the process, and continues to run down the walkway and towards the house. Bucky stops the dog as it's feet touch the front porch of the house, and thanks himself for closing the door.

"Hey, buddy. What're you doing?" Bucky asks the dog as if the dog will answer him back 'Oh nothing much just going for my mid day jog'. 

Bucky laughs to himself . “Alright let me see if I can get you cleaned up,” he says to the dog. He put his hand on the door knob but stops himself. _Oh right. House that’s technically not his, dog that’s definitely not his with paint on his paws. Probably wouldn’t make a good mixture._

“Umm…” Bucky turns back to the dog who is sitting patiently. “Stay,” he apprehensively orders, pointing to the ground. “Stay,” He repeats as he opens the door. “Stay.” He says again as he moves his body backwards into the door, not leaving room for the dog to come in. Besides extending his head to the door the dog stays still. 

Bucky rushes to the kitchen and looks in the drawers for a dish towel of some kind. Nothing. God the previous people really didn’t leave shit. He sighs and takes the roll of paper towels he had got on his way back from the hardware store. He ripped some off and folded it as he wet it under the sink quickly. He walks back to the front door mostly expecting the dog to run off, which he actually did think it did until he opens the door fully and sees it laying down on the porch near the door. 

“Well at least you’re a good listener,” Bucky says, lowering himself to the ground. He grabs a paw, darkened with paint. The dog lets him, wagging its tail as Bucky uses the cloth to wipe off some of the paint. “Even if you did ruin my walkway…” He looks past the dog to long cement connecting the house to land. “Wait a minute…” He gets up and sees the paw prints all the way from towards the road to his house. The walkway, the painted paw prints. He walks over and brushes his shoe over one. It’s already dry. Paw prints on the walkway just like the letter described. 

He walks back over to the dog and finishes cleaning its paws. He wears a puzzled look on his face as he thinks, much to the dog’s displeasure. Bucky feels a light kick on his face as he notices the dog roll on his back, asking for a belly rub. This shakes Bucky out of his trance as he laughs again at his new friend and obliges. The dog’s paws are clean and Bucky packs up the remaining paint, he’ll finish tomorrow. He heads inside, this time not giving the dog any orders so he follows him inside. Bucky doesn’t mind. He grabs the letter from the table by the couch and rereads it. He shakes his head again, maybe this dog has done this before? Or any dog for that matter? He sighs, looks through one of his bags for a piece of paper and decides to write a letter back. Tomorrow, after getting the dog checked at the vet, he’ll pick up some envelopes and stamps. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a bad Valentine's Day Steve decides to check on the old Lake House.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Very brief description of death*

**February 14th**

Another great day Steve thinks, full of sarcasm. Not only is it Valentine Day and he is, not so subtly, reminded that he's once again alone but work was way overstaffed. He was one of the ones asked to leave early. Guess he had the most hours already but he was planning on working all day to keep his mind occupied from the idea that he'll be forever alone.

He leaves through the doors of the hospital with an aggressive push on the handle. He's not sure why he opted for walking instead of calling a cab but he soon regrets his decision a few minutes in as the cold New York air freezes his face into place. The subway it'll have to be as he's now in an inconvenient place to catch a cab, if they would even stop here. Even though he does have a truck, parking is impossible in the city so he always chooses public transportation on his work days. Saves hospital parking for those that need it anyways.

He walks further along to the station he's most familiar with. He's about to cross the street to get there when he sees a group gathered near where he needed to cross. He sighs  _ Was it one of those Valentines scavenger hunts and they managed to get a group of strangers to help? _

Then he hears screaming and then someone yelling for help, and not the scavenger hunt type of help. Steve runs quickly toward the crowd now, if they did end up being assholes that screamed for no reason well he'll take that chance and at least he got some exercise out of it.

"Let me through, let me through," He says pushing through the crowd. "I'm a doctor!" He yells finally when he gets resistance from the crowd. They seem to clear from him after that. It really does disturb Steve how a crowd gathers when something happens especially if someone was actually hurt. Sure some want to help but guarantee other's just want to see something shocking. He hates that, it reminds him how people used to voluntarily watch executions or men fighting each other to the death. They should go in for a night shift in the ER they'll see plenty of shocking things.

As the crowd moves, slightly, apart Steve sees a figure hunched over the pavement.

"Are they breathing?" He asks, to no one in particular. The person next to him just shrugs.

"What happened?"

"Car." One lady choked out. "Hit him, I saw the whole thing. They just took off."

Alright, witness number one. He doesn't turn to her but he's sure the woman is crying now. He scoots down next to what was now his patient. He gently talks to the person on the ground, letting him know what he was going to do before he does it. He moves the hair from around the man's head and accesses the damage as he reaches for his wrist to check for a pulse.

There is one there but very faintly. He yells orders to the onlookers for help and it's as if he never left work. Unfortunately the faint pulse doesn't last long and by the time Steve hears the sirens of the ambulance there's nothing more he could do. He doesn't tell the crowd though he doesn't need to deal with them possibly experiencing death for the first time despite their initial curiosity. All he says is sorry and that it's in the EMT's hands now. He leaves his information with the EMT and the firemen. They insist he wait for the police but he lies and says he's already late for a dinner but leaves them his number for when the police do finally get there.

He decides to walk the rest of the way home despite the cold air.

With that check mark three on his terrible day checklist he decides to go by the Lakehouse. So as soon as he gets home he takes off in his truck. He hasn't gotten any forwarded mail so maybe it was still there, plus he'll admit he misses the damn place. It was far removed from everything, from this city, from people.

Takes him a while, or maybe it just seems so. He has to change almost every other radio station from sappy love songs. It's still too difficult for him. He settles on some talk radio but then that gets lovey dovey so he plugs in his phone and finds whatever angry playlist he made the past week.

Eventually he pulls on the street the house rests on, and puts the car in park by the property before the walkway and in front of the mailbox. He notices the flag is up on the box indicating mail to be sent out. He looks around not noticing anyone around and the lights in the house are all off. Probably out for the "Holiday" Steve thinks. He opens the box and finds a small envelope. He turns it over to the address side and see's it's made out to him from the property his feet were currently on. Odd. He said forward the mail not send him mail. Unless it was his that the renters had opened not realizing it was for him? Steve opens the envelope and sees its a letter written to him.

_ Dear Steve, _

_ Thank you for the letter welcoming me to this beautiful house. It really is ...quaint but I like that. My job is too loud sometimes anyways. It's also a good place to write without any disturbances. Not sure why I'm telling you all of this or if you'll even get this letter but there was one thing I thought was curious about your letter. In it you indicated something about a box in the attic, which I have yet to find... The attic also seemed very bare and I'm not sure if it was you or the other renters but it seems like no one has been up here in quite some time. Or maybe the attic is just very prone to dust and dirt? Disregarding the mysterious box...how did you know about the paw print? You see when I got here, hell when I was looking at the house, I didn't see one paw print. The other day I noticed the handrails needed a paint job so today I decided to run out and get paint for that. Mid way through though I hear this noise in the bushes and out of nowhere this dog runs out, and runs into my paint spreading black pawprints like you wrote about all over the walkway. Did you know about this dog? Is this a common occurrence? The wood doesn't show a paint job and I doubt someone would replace the whole walkway for this. Not sure why I'm writing you all this I just thought it was odd. I know you gave me your address only for forwarding mail so I'm sorry if this is a bother and I understand if you just throw this out and don't write back (although I could use the "company"). _

__

_ \- James "Bucky" Barnes _

Steve puts the letter on his passenger seat, his brows furrowing. Not only was he most certain there were pawprints from not only his stay but before. He also knew how impossible it was to get out or cover up. Even if someone had painted over it from the time Steve left to when this new person got there, the walkway, which was made almost completely from wood, would've looked painted. Plus James said he would've noticed a paint job. Even looking out at it now Steve could see it was still the same old wood and he's sure if he got out of the truck and walked on it he would see the paw prints. 

After checking behind and in front of him that no one was driving down the road toward him he does just that. He hears the old creak as his shoes touch the walkway. It also shows as an indicator that indeed someone didn't replace it from when Steve left. He looks down and sure enough sees the same exact paw prints in the same exact spot he saw them in everyday for months. And the wood still had it's same natural color, not a drip of paint on it besides the animal's decoration. Even if by some miracle they had painted the wood or had replaced it all but kept that creak in, how did not only the dog land in the same exact spots but how would they have made it look just as faded as when he left it. If the dog had just done it recently the prints would still be a dark black. 

He wants to write a letter back but all he has with him is a notebook of paper, no envelopes and no stamps. Granted he was delivering it to the address right in front of him so he probably didn't need those formalities anyways and if what's in the far back of his head is telling him is right, he wouldn't need them regardless. He thinks for a moment and quickly grabs a pen from his cup holder and the notepad on the bottom of his passenger side floor. He puts pen to paper quickly before he can change his mind (or convince himself he's lost it).

_ Dear James _

_...Or Bucky..Do you prefer Bucky? _ _ You're right your inquiry is definitely curious. I am currently in front of the house and don't see anyone home. I checked out the prints (hope that's okay). And I am also very confused. The walkway has no hints of being painted and the prints don't' look new. The spots are also exactly where I remember. Even the handrails seem to be chipping once again (unless you just did a very bad job haha) But since I doubt someone is playing some elaborate strange trick on both of us I hope you don't mind me asking this really out there question but uh.....what year is it there? _

_Reluctantly (and I swear I'm not crazy),_

_-Steve_

Steve rips the paper out of the book and folds it trifold. He writes James' name and the Lake House address (because he's honestly not sure how this shit works) then puts his name and current address on the return address line. He shakes his head as he opens the mailbox to put the letter in. He takes one last look in and sighs as he closes the lid and puts the flag up. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day with Jack, Bucky gets another letter.

**February 15th**

Bucky wakes up the day after Valentines Day, not that that should be specified as he pretty much treated it as any other day. Of course the bar was busier than usual but he agreed to work the whole day (from opening to closing at 2am) so he could feel less guilty about spending more time at the house he paid so much to be separate from the world. It's not like he really needed the money, he pretty much owned the bar at this point, but he figured it was only fair for his workers to not have to spend the whole day there, plus he really didn't mind. It spared him from watching some French romance movie that had a 80% chance of being depressing by the end.

The morning light blinds him after minutes of being awake and he moves out of the bed only regretting renting a house that was all windows for a second. The dog, which he decided to call Jack, nudges him with his nose because he obviously wasn't moving fast enough.

"Yeah, yeah," He lightly pushes the sweet but demanding dog away.

He prepares breakfast for himself and his smaller companion. A bagel with cream cheese for him and a dry dog food mixed with wet dog food for Jack. Of course on one side of the bagel he doesn't fully cover it with cream cheese, Jack knows why.

Sure enough Jack scarfs down his food and sits down patiently waiting for Bucky to mostly finish his breakfast. His wagging tail thumps against the floor in a rhythmic 'pat, pat, pat.' Bucky laughs as he chews slowly on his last half of his bagel, the noise getting faster. Bucky rolls his eyes dramatically "Alright since you're been _such_ a good boy," Bucky turns to Jack with the last piece of his bagel in hand. Jack starts moving back and forth on his hind legs but he knows not to jump

"Sit." Bucky says gently and Jack stops rocking. "Stay..." Bucky holds up the bread and Jack stays. "Good boy!" He holds out his hand for Jack to take the piece. He doesn't snatch it but rather spends a millisecond sniffing Bucky's hand and slowly opens his mouth to grab with his tongue. It's the oddest thing but amuses Bucky. He pats Jack's head as the dog appears to smile after swallowing the treat. Bucky walks away from the kitchen and Jack follows with only 6 inches separating them. 

And he does that all day throughout the day. When Bucky sits down to write or watch tv Jack is right by his feet curled in a ball. When Bucky gets up to go to walk around or grab a drink, there's Jack. Even when Bucky goes to the bathroom, though he closes the door to it when he walks in, Jack is right in front of the door tail wagging when he's done.

Today after sitting by his desk and writing for a few hours Bucky decides to go out for some fresh air. He's not concerned when he leaves the door open a little longer and Jack gets out. The dog doesn't go anywhere besides 6 inches from Bucky's heel. However, when Bucky walks out, he notices the flag on the mailbox is up again. Odd because it was down yesterday and he knows he didn't send anything out, matter of fact he was here all day and didn't even see any postal worker come by so it's not like they would've stuck it up. Well since he's outside anyways he might as well go check. He walks down the walkway, his boots stomping on the wood followed by the clickity clack of Jack's paws behind him.

Bucky is surprised when he opens the mailbox to find a letter addressed to him with no envelope. It's from Steve, the old renter. He grabs it despite the weirdness of it being there, he knows he didn't see a postal worker and he's even more sure he didn't see some other car come and drop off the letter, and he checked his mail yesterday. Unless this Steve came by at night? Well that only weirds Bucky out even more. He opens the letter regardless and has slight relief when he doesn't find a loc of his hair in the creases of the paper.

He reads Steve's letter, his eyes scanning the paper quickly, brows furrowing with confusion and curiosity. He turns to look at the now famous paw prints and he can clearly see they're not the least bit faded, matter of fact it hasn't even rained to wash some of it away. He continues on. He lets out a small chuckle and shakes his head at Steve's question.

_What year is it?_ This guy was definitely losing it. Bucky laughs. _What did this place do to him that this man didn't know the year all the sudden?_ He walks up to the house, note in hand and dog following behind him.

He grabs a piece of paper from his writing notebook when he walks in, still chuckling to himself. He takes out his pen to write Steve back. Pen cap in his mouth he laughs again as he starts writing out to Steve.

_Steve,_

~~_I do go by Bucky but mostly to my friends...and customers. Formally I am James._ _But maybe someday you can call me B.--_~~ _That is very odd about the prints. They're not faded at all here. Haven't noticed any chipping on the handrails either besides what made me paint them in the first place. I'm sure you're right no one is playing a trick on us but you're question is still umm...concerning haha What year is it? The fact that I'm even writing this makes me laugh but.... 2010. Year of the Tiger. Start of a new decade :D._

_I don't think you're crazy (but I'm definitely making sure my door is locked)_

_-_ _~~Bucky~~ _ _~~James~~ ~~Bucky~~ _ _James “Bucky” Barnes_

Bucky laughs. Not believing he actually had to tell someone what year it was like he was in Back to the Future or that British show everyone was obsessed with. Professor How? Or something. 

He makes his way back down the walkway to the mailbox, Jack of course close behind, and puts the letter to this mysterious old renter in it.

“Come on boy,” He says to his furry shadow as he makes his way back up to the house, trying not to chuckle too much almost as if he was saving Steve the embarrassment despite him not being here. He glances behind him, noticing he doesn’t hear the noise of Jack’s paws hitting the wood behind him. Jack is sitting by the mailbox and Bucky turns fully around as he looks at the dog. Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion. Jack has never paid attention to the mailbox before but here he was sitting in attention right by it. 

“Jack? Come on boy.” Bucky says again. 

Jack gives a quick look to Bucky then back at the mailbox. He lets out a loud bark to the box and a low growl. He looks back to Bucky and runs to him. Bucky starts walking again and Jack is back to being half a foot behind him. Bucky breathes out a sigh of relief not realizing he had held it in. 

Jack follows him inside the house like normal and Bucky didn’t realize until a few seconds ago he really doesn't want to let Jack go. It had only been a little more than a week but he grew attached to the dog quickly. He was afraid just now when Jack wasn’t right behind him that maybe his time with Bucky was done, like Bucky was just a visitor in this dog’s world. He’s not sure why that hurts him so much. Could be the rejection of so many people in his life and he can't even keep a dog as a companion? Okay, Barnes, you're thinking about this a little too seriously. And sure enough Jack is still right by his side now, not letting Bucky have any space or privacy. But Bucky doesn’t mind. After Bucky finishes preparing his dinner and giving Jack his dog food he watches as the dog scarves down his food and then sits and waits at Bucky's feet. He just smiles at Jack and pushes a quarter of his dinner aside to save for the animal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is an awkward mess. Bucky is there to read it.

**February 22nd**

Steve has been checking his doors almost all week to see if the cops show up on a warrant for harassing the current resident of a place he no longer lived. Lucky for him no one came, or maybe they got the wrong address. No one showed up at his work either. Any normal person would think hey Steve you managed to not get the authorities to come after you on a harassment or the very least a trespassing lawsuit maybe stay away from the residence (if not permanently at least for a little while) but does Steve do that? Nope. Something was calling him back there and he's not sure what but he is sure it has something to do with that mailbox.

Then again maybe he didn't get notice of a Cease and Desist because they mailed it to that mailbox and he really should check it to avoid anyone showing up to his job. I mean he really could explain this away easily....maybe. You see officer I just thought this person was experiencing living in my lake house a few years in the past, is all, and wanted to see if I was right. Sure sure.

Steve decides to drive over there despite trying to convince himself to not and since he's off today he leaves a little after he gets up. If anything if he drives there for no reason he could at least spend time in the shops a few miles from the property. He had always had a nice time going in them especially when he was with...no don't think about that. What if that's what this was? His mind trying to mend itself after his very bad no good breakup. No that seems far fetched...it was just a break up. People break up all the time and never experience a time traveling mailbox because of it. 

On his way to the mailbox he checks his mirrors for any cops, or anyone that might be a cop (off duty or disguised). No one really follows him, chalk that up to it being 8 in the morning on a Wednesday. He sees some families in mini vans with kids waving all about, if they were cops they were really dedicated to the undercover gig.

Steve gets there and the house looks as vacant as he left it, and definitely as vacant as when he last saw it. It was brighter out now than the evening he stopped by so he can really see clearly nothing has changed. Hmm... and once again no one was home. Though maybe current resident's job had weird schedules. Maybe he worked day/evening shifts or even late at night shifts that would keep him away and he was sleeping well into the late morning. He probably should've asked him what his job was...probably should've asked him that before the 'hey by the way are you from a different year?'. Steve smacks his forehead at the disbelief at him sending that letter. This poor James guy...or Bucky did he say? What a strange variation of James...

He was thinking so much about the appearance of the house ...and the resident. That he didn't noticed until now, the mailbox. The flag is standing straight up, ready for the mail inside it to be delivered. He keeps having to tell himself it's not his mail it's not his mail but something makes him open it regardless, hearing the creak of the rusted metal and just like he hoped it's a letter from James.

He's glad there isn't any rules about stamps in whatever scifi movie they slipped themselves into because boy Steve really didn't want to go out and buys stamps from something that might be a fever dream.

The letter starts off with a lot of cross outs and seemingly some confusion on....Bucky's end on what's okay for Steve to call him. Steve's glad the awkwardness on both sides comes across pretty well. And again about the pawprints but now Steve knows. He's also aware Bucky probably thinks he's crazy but he smirks when he reads about the prints which turns into a wide grin when he see's the  _ very incorrect  _ date Bucky puts.

_ Alright well I'll either play along or get a CAT Scan in the morning  _ Steve thinks as he takes another page from his notebook in his truck and pens out the next letter.

_ Dear...Bucky, _

_ Such a strange variation of James... or does it mean something else? Probably not the point umm so as much as I'd like it to be 2010 (was a pretty good year for me) I hate to break the news but it's actually 2012...at least here it is. On the way here I did realize your absence when I'm here could be to maybe working different hours then the norm. However when I happen to stop by the house really doesn't look lived in, like it hasn't been touched since I moved. Now unless you're one of those minimalistic guys who also happens to hate sweeping leaves and likes the dirt aesthetic I think we have ourselves in a really unbelievable situation. Thank you for not calling the cops on me but since you have concluded you are living 2 years earlier than me I suppose they would've shown up to an empty lot or whoever surprised resident happened to live at my address at the time. _

_ No need to lock your doors (as the house is vacant!) but please write back I'm very curious. :) _

_\- Steve_

It's a bit forward and very blunt like hey idiot you're living it the past. It lacks subtly but what else are you supposed to say it's not like this is an everyday thing. Steve is almost  _ almost  _ attempted to walk up to the door and try the lock and if unlocked maybe look around but god forbid someone actually is living there and just left the thing unlocked. He really doesn't need a trespassing arrest on his record especially in his line of work. He decides against that idea and slides his letter in the mailbox, lifting the flag up as he closes it.

It only takes a minute for him to second guess the letter. Not so much the reveal of letting Bucky know he was 2 years behind him but maybe he should've been more personable. Asked what his job was or something? Got to know him? Should he even had called him Bucky. They didn't really know each other well enough for a nickname. Or maybe Bucky didn't care either way...or maybe he felt something hence all the cross outs of explaining the complexities of what name to use. Then again he didn't sign off his letter as Bucky. Steve's not sure why he's second guessing everything, acting so nervous as if he was still a little schoolboy. If Bucky was going to distance himself from anything based on what Steve said it'd probably be the time travel bit not the fact Steve used a nickname Bucky basically told him he could use. Was the letter too joking/buddy buddy? Like they were already old pals or something. Steve's about to reach back in, take out the letter, and tear it up letting it be the first draft the second would be..nicer more professional. But he stops himself. He doesn't want to reach in and find the letter still there breaking the illusion he had that it disappears as soon as he closes the box but he also doesn't want to open it and find it gone as if discovering it's magic. So he lets it be and hopes his new pen pal isn't offended by his written tone, sees it as kidding like he intended.

**February 24th 2010**

Bucky gets back after a late night shift at the bar. He groans and he pulls to park his car, his body aching from standing all night. He also probably shouldn't have started the night tossing bottles in the air like he was some fancy cocktail waiter. Catching a mostly full 750ml glass bottle of vodka behind your back when you've done nothing of the sort before was definitely not the smartest decision he made. He's lucky he didn't break it...or his arm.

He turns his car off and slides out of the seat as he pulls his shirt from his body, the fabric sticky with too many drinks spilled on him. He's lucky he put his jacket safely in the backroom though. It was just one of those nights. He has the next 3 days off and he’s grateful for that, something about having a miserable day before you’re off makes you enjoy them that much more and boy can he not wait to walk into that house, take a shower, go to bed and start this long weekend. Granted some of it will be working out the budget to see if they can fit in some new hires so he can cut more in person hours at the bar. He's lucky they do more revenue then just a few regulars getting cheap beer to drown their sorrows in they also do events! The newspapers ads they put in are a lot cheerier about it but they actually do pull in a good amount of people, it helps that it's an old building that at one point in the 20's was a speakeasy. So a lot of people try to book them for events, especially for themes of "The Roaring Twenties" sort. Tonight, matter of fact, was one such event. Usually they don't get late night ones because he really is apprehensive about closing the bar for a private party at night, aka they most lucrative time, but the guests were willing to pay extra ...extra for it. So despite his grumbling and sour legs...and almost broken arm he was grateful for the night. 

It's dark out by the Lakehouse at night, much different than in the city where at some places you're almost more blinded by the lights then you are by the sunshine in the day. The only lights are one on the entrance of the walkway and another by his front door.

So as it is established it is dark and he is tired he almost fails to notice the mailbox and it's flag risen high, waiting for Bucky to retrieve whatever is inside. He wonders how the mail man that does come doesn't end up taking the letter with him considering and up flag usually means its mail sent out but then again considering the situation he's in the mailman knowing when to take the mail or not was probably the least important thing to figure out. So after almost bumping into the thing Bucky slides his hand inside the box and feels for the letter he now knows is there. He feels around and finds a second envelope so he takes both out. Maybe the mailman did come. Its impossible to read outside currently so he tucks the envelopes in his jacket and makes his way up the walkway to the house. 

Jack greets him as soon as he opens the door. He jumps up for a greeting pet and proceeds to lick Bucky's hand as Bucky walks towards the nearest light. After about 10 licks of Bucky's hand Jack starts sniffling like he tasted something sour. 

"Sorry buddy," is all Bucky says "Couldn't scrub off all the bourbon I guess." He gives Jack another pet before he sits on the couch, turning on another light on the side table, and starts looking at the envelopes. Both seem to be from Steve which confuses Bucky. Did he miss a letter? 

He opens the first one. He laughs at Steve's confusion about his name, then puts the letter down temporarily at the revelation that Steve was living in 2012 and picks it up again out of curiosity. He's back to laughing again at Steve's blunt call out of Bucky being the dumbass that lives in the year 2010. It's light and he can tell Steve is joking around but also he's sure he's as "what the fuck?" as he is, if this really is what they're both thinking and not one, or both, are losing it. 

He opens the second letter the date on top is from the next day. Yesterday, or 730 days in the future? More or less. Bucky groans this was going to be hard to figure out. 

_ Hi,  _

_ Sorry about the last letter. I was probably a little too forward. WE dont really know each other I shouldn't have accused you of being a minimalist who doesn't mind dirt or assumed you called the cops or basically more or less called you dumb for believing you live in 2010. I'm here to say maybe you do and I maybe live in 2012 and this is some weird interdimension break that's bringing us together from different years so I think it's fair to say we're meant to be writing these letters we're meant to get to know each other for whatever reason. I'm not a hopeless romantic or anything, kind of a bitter anti romance currently and maybe this isn't even supposed to be romance maybe just friendships or  _ _~~soul~~ _ _ something. God now i'm being too existential. And if in fact this is a just a cruel prank i'll ask to please end it. It's been funny really. But if it's not then well... Jesus look at me first I thought I was being too harsh now I'm being too sensitive. In all honestly I did do a long shift at work so you can excuse some of this for exhaustion. What I meant to write originally and what I regretted not doing in the first was: How about we get to know each other? I mean after we get past the initial "living in separate years" shock we should... Hopefully you'll get the first letter and read that part and know that and then you can move on to this letter where I'll start with umm.  _ ~~_ How are you? _ ~~ _ Where did you grow up? What do you do for work?  _

_ God this is stupid but I'm too afraid after I've thrown a letter in that mailbox to retrieve it and I also know if I wait too long to put it in the box I'll just rip it up so you're left with this jumbled awkward mess.  _

_ -Steve. _

Bucky smiles softly at Steve's second letter and as much as he wants to pen him one back right away he's too exhausted and he's a little more careful about what exhaustion does to his letter writing than Steve is. However, despite what Steve calls a jumbled a mess Bucky wants nothing more than to go to Steve and grab him and tell him it's okay to the joking way he was in the first letter as okay as it was to be how he was in the second and Bucky can't wait to get to know both sides of him well. He does think that they should come up with a way they both know, in 100% certainty, that the other is from different times so neither feels insecure about the other being truthful before they continue with this. 

Bucky goes to bed thinking of a plan for them, he'll write Steve about it in the morning. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress is made on Steve and Bucky getting to know each other.

**March 1st 2012 (?)**

Welp as you might've guessed it Steve finds his way back to the Lakehouse. He says to himself he'll only come once a week maybe twice a week depending on where this goes. Though part of him wonders why he doesn't just move back in since clearly the renter after him never technically showed up. But the trip back and forth to his job is a lot to do daily and for the most part when he stayed he was in his private practice...more structured schedule but maybe for the weekends. He shakes that thought from him mind as he pulls up on the house and smiles to himself when he sees the flag raised. Then he gets a little nervous upon opening remembering the fact that he sent not one but 2 letters.

He pulls out the letter, nicely placed in a sealed envelope, Bucky must've taken time with this one. Steve holds his breath as he starts to read.

_ Dear Steven Rogers, _

_ Hahahah I'm just kidding. You didn't have to send TWO letters but I appreciate the attention you're giving me. Don't worry about the first one I know a kidder when I see one...or read one? Bucky is actually a nick name of my middle name (I know weird but hey). Mom's called me that my whole life (unless I was in trouble then it was James), everyone pretty much does...except my dad. He always resorts to James its more mature "people want to hire a James they don't want to hire a Bucky." Which brings me to job- I'm a bartender! Or rather now I own the damn thing. I'm pretty proud of it but as you can tell it's not really a profession that needs the name James so as you might be able to conclude I'm in the infamous boat of people who are disappointments to their father. I think he wanted me to be a lawyer or something? I really never knew. I've been single for a while so I can understand your mindset of "bitterly unromantic". My family is from Indiana but we moved to Brooklyn when I was in my early teens, my dad has since moved back to Indiana without my mom. Guess I'm also on the infamous boat of divorced parents. So that's pretty much my answer to those ice breaker questions...what about you? What do you do? Where are you from? What's your favorite color? _

_ I do agree if this is truly what we both think it is it has to have happened to us for a reason (soulmatism?) Who knows really but that brings me to the reason I'm writing this letter (besides answering you back of course) but I think we should come up with a plan on how to make sure the other is 90% certain we are in the times we say we are. I was waiting to get a good nights rest to come up with a way (I didn't want to do what you did and write to you after a night of an exhausting shift at work haha). So I guess your part is pretty simple. Just send me something that's supposed to happen this year, preferably a game I can bet loads of money on and become a millionaire. (I'm just kidding don't do that. I'll go through with the bet and then feel guilty for winning. Yes I'd never survive in Back to the Future. Was that the second one?) Well anyways make sure it’s something small, something I can’t bet on, but not something so 50/50 I’ll blame it on chance. I’ve been trying to think of ways I can prove to you that I am indeed in what you referred to as a “good year for you”. What happened, did you land a movie deal or something? Anyways maybe I can grab some magazines or pictures that show you the date and bury that somewhere on the property? Granted of course how would you know I didn’t just grab that shit off ebay and bury it. Idk an empty gallon of Milk with an expiration date of this year? Maybe grab a newspaper and take a picture of me holding it? Or does that only work in hostage situations? I don’t know, you tell me and I’ll do it. Maybe you can look up your “present me” and ask...me. Though I’m not sure where I’m living right now or if that will fuck up the space time continum. I wish we had phones that could time travel as opposed to mail but I suppose mailing back and forth will have to do.  _

_ Please write back soon,  _

_ -Bucky :) _

Steve takes it all in. Bucky's longer letter. He's grateful that he didn't make things awkward with his multiple letters and that Bucky seems like a lighthearted person as well. He's curious about Bucky's father there's obviously some tension there but Bucky feels good enough to mention it to Steve anyways. Bartender or rather now/then Bar Owner? Part of him is surprised the other isn't too much. Guess his theory of Bucky having a job that didn't have a normal schedule was somewhat true though he now knows that wasn't the reason he wasn't home when Steve stopped by. And Brooklyn! Steve used to live in Brooklyn . Matter of fact lived there most of his life. He moved a few years ago though. Before 2010 even and he doesn't recall knowing a Bucky.

He does agree with Bucky's idea. He wouldn't want either of them being fearful the other isn't honest or god forbid taking part in an elaborate prank. He'd have to think of something to tell Bucky that happened in 2010 save for any sports teams winnings. Thank god for Google. He's not sure what would be good for Bucky to do. The magazines might work, he's sure he could determine the decomposition and not newly bought and buried. The milk would be the easiest one but also kind of...gross? Picture with newspaper wouldn't really work, he could've had a picture like that with him before this. Though he supposes if it wasn't a historical newspaper and just any old Sunday paper that'd make sense because who would take a picture with just a paper advertising the best holiday deals with no historical significance to it. Would it be too much to ask for it all?

Steve sighs and figures maybe writing his thoughts TO Bucky would be easier than just thinking about it to himself. He opens his passenger door and looks around the car floor for paper. None. He opens his glove compartment and searches in there or any scraps. Also none. Dammit he knew he should have bought more legal pads. He looks in his backseat and manages to find an old flyer crumpled up. For a moment he thinks but knows that won't do either. So now his only options are go all the way back home to get a notebook for a letter that then wont be sent out until he makes his way up here again or go spend 50 dollars on a notebook made out of recycled paper at the hipster store about a mile or 2 away from the lake house. He sighs getting in his car with his decision, and drives off.

**March 2nd 2010(?)**

Bucky swears he almost catches the exact moment the mailbox "works it's magic" as one minute he's looking at the thing, no one is there and the flag is down, and he turns away for what he thinks was a second (okay maybe it could've been longer, time did pass strangely when he was writing) but regardless he looked up again and while still no one was there the flag was up. He jerks his chair from his desk so fast he startles Jack awake, the dog sliding on the wood floors trying to get up and get his bearings.

"Sorry, boy." Bucky laughs as he pets behind his ears.

Jack accepts the apology with a smile and a lick on Bucky's hand.

After another pat on his head Bucky makes his way to the door quickly and almost jogs down the walkway. Jack, of course, follows him down wondering why they were suddenly going fast. Bucky stops when he hits the mailbox and Jack didn't get the memo they weren't exercising so he runs past Bucky to the street. When he realizes he went to far and that his human friend all the sudden stopped their exercise Jack's eyes spot him at the box. He runs back to Bucky almost giving a look that he was trying to play his misstep cool. " _ Just decided to jog a little farther, dad. No big deal," _ Bucky voices the dog's thoughts.

Bucky reaches into the mailbox and thinks "Watch this time it's actually bills or a book of coupons and I ran out here for no reason," He says to himself and well...Jack. He feels inside and there's definitely a letter just this time it's in an actual envelope so that strikes Bucky as odd. Oh watch it actually is Steve's mail and now he'd have to contact a Steve that doesn't know who he is. He pulls it out and the envelop is definitely addressed to him from Steve but it's formal like it was the first time he sent something. He wonders if there's a reason. Did he give to much of his personal life away to Steve and now he wanted to go back to formal? He opens the letter, the paper being a texture he wasn't used to.

_ Bucky, _

_ I'm going with it's okay to call you that now. Sorry about the paper. I ran out and had to get it at this store nearby. It was that or not contact you for a week. Sacrifices were made. It's made out of used paper so I guess that's good. Help the environment and such. They decided to throw in some free envelopes too since they upped the price so that's why you got those. Not sure what else I'd use these envelopes for. _

_ Oh... well that helps. _ Bucky thinks as he stops for a moment.  _ Way to jump to conclusions over a piece of paper, Barnes. _ He continues reading.

_ Now that I gave you that little explanation lets see personal stuff...haha. Glad you took my letter...letters well. I'm not sure which letter I'm more embarrassed by to be honest but I guess I'm glad I got that out of the way. _

_ Sorry about your dad. That's rough. But Bar Owner is cool! Do you enjoy that? Being a lawyer doesn't sound like much fun, especially putting in the amount of extra schooling you have to go to. I'm not one to talk though I went to school to be a Doctor. First ER, then had a private practice which was really nice but they sadly shut down so I had to go back to ER. It's miserable which is why I'm glad I had this house when I did. Bad break up and losing job/going back to old job all in the same year. Look at me, very woe is me. I'm sorry. Home life was okay. Don't remember too much of my dad. He was away a lot so my mom mostly raised me. He passed away when I was 11 or so. Had a good pension and life insurance so I was able to go to medical school... regret it only slightly now. It's funny you say you moved to Brooklyn because that's actually where I was born (and raised). Moved a little more into the city when I moved up in my job. My mom still lives there though, she'll never leave, and of course some high school friends. Some of them are famous bar hoppers. I wonder if they've been to yours haha. Oh and my favorite color is blue. _

_ Now as far as your idea of letting me know you 110% for sure are not in on some practical joke umm would it be too much to ask for all of those things? I'm sorry it just feels so much easier to fake being in the past than the future. As far as on my end I could definitely tell you something ...or a few things just to cement in your head where...or when I am. _

_ I'll start with a few umm... going off what I remember (and what google confirmed) Corey Haim dies in about 8 days from now. (Now since I know you're most likely not famous and I don't think there's any other way to stop it I'm going with the fact you probably can't change this from happening.) In less depressing news at the Academy Awards the Hurt Locker wins picture and Sandra Bullock wins best actress (not for the Hurt Locker). On the 15th Sacha Baren Cohen and Isla Fisher get married? I'll admit I had to look up the last one. Hope that helps a little? I'll give more each letter until you believe me if that works? :) _

_ Write back soon! _

_ \- Steve _

Bucky keeps a note of the ending part. Corey Haim dies, Hurt Locker wins so does Sandra Bullock, He really doesn't know much about Sacha Baren Cohen or Isla Fisher, matter of fact he wasn't even aware they were together so that part doesn't have much meaning to him. He goes inside and makes his way to his computer. He types in Corey Haim just in case and sees that the actor is still very much alive God (supposedly) in a little more than a week he's gone. He didn't know much about Haim just some movies he watched when he was younger but it's a weird feeling knowing someone is going to die. He looks up the others: Hurt Locker and Blind Side. He definitely heard about both and knows they're getting Oscar buzz so this could be just Steve's prediction. It's not too surprising or far fetched. He might need more than a dead 80's movie star and 2 famous people he barely knows getting married but he'll see when the tabloids come in. He debates writing Steve back now or waiting till he's done his part or at least waiting until Steve's events happen. He did say write back soon though....

So he does. He writes more about his home life, tries not to pry too much into Steve’s but still lets him know he’s interested. Asks him more questions to keep the personal part going. He asks him about where in Brooklyn he grew up, he might know some people he does. He doesn’t say “and maybe we can meet” doesn’t want to freak him out. He gives him the name of his bar with a slight panic, he doesn’t want Steve to stop by but also doesn’t want Steve to say something about it offhand that he doesn’t know yet. He writes it regardless and hopes for the best. Best being Steve never hearing of it, maybe he changes names some time from now till then. 

_ Now as for what umm future references you gave me...  _ Bucky writes. 

_ That’s sad about Cory Haim. I didn’t see too much of his things but I know his name and I saw him in The Lost Boys. Definitely can’t stop his death but umm can I stop Hurt Locker from winning the Oscar? Hahah I’m just kidding. I’m still not convinced Steveo you could just be good at predicting things. I’ll wait till these happen and see how I feel. In the meantime in answer to this letter you can send some more. As far as my part I’ll get started on those when I get my days off from work this week.  _

_ Hope to hear from you soon.  _

_ ~~Sincerely~~ , ~~with l~~ , -  _

_ Bucky _

_ P.s I appreciate the paper. I like a change.  _

Bucky scratches his nose thinking he should trash the letter and just write Steve back when he finds out about Corey, or the Oscars, or whoever and whoever getting married. He looks at Jack and can see the dog judging him. 

“Alright alright,” He says to himself and the dog. He rolls his eyes. “Alright.” He makes his way back to the mailbox Jack trailing him again but this time seeming almost as if he was making sure Bucky delivered the letter. 

“Okay Mr. Bossypants. You happy now?” He turns to Jack, hand on his hip. 

Jack barks like he was saying yes and makes his way down the walkway and back to the house. This time Bucky is the one to follow him inside. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and/or Kudos are always appreciated :)


End file.
